


Passing In The Night

by taichara



Category: Tales of Destiny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:43:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon's camp plans threaten to go awry, and the end result is less than ideal.  Secrets can be dangerous, folks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing In The Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pirotess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirotess/gifts).



The camp was dead silent; not even the banked coals of the fire offered so much as a single pop or crackle to break the hush that had fallen. Leon didn't need the fire to be active anyway, not when the moon shining through the trees gave him just enough light to furtively survey the pack of idiots he was still saddled with.

There was Stahn, first of all, passed out and no doubt drooling, with his Swordian sticking out of his pack next to him as if it were just some common pot-metal blade. Leon's lip curled. Fool. From Stahn he swept his measuring gaze around the fire, marking every body that was present in the camp as sleeping just as deeply.

_Oh, good._

_Finally I have a chance to get a bit of privacy away from these fools._

It wasn't as if he were asking for much, really. Just a chance to get away. Slowly, stealthily he eeled his way out of his own bedroll -- no worry about needing to get dressed, what kind of idiot would he be to be anything less than fully clothed camping rough in the middle of nowhere -- and took Chaltier from his pocket in the bedroll's lining. All he needed was to snatch up his cloak, and ... freedom. Freedom for at least an hour or two.

-*-

Having slipped away from the camp without a single backwards glance, Leon disappeared into the trees surrounding the sleepers, striking onto a deer path (or something to that effect) and padding as quietly and as quickly as he could. Once he'd put enough distance between himself and the idiot team, then ...

... a shadow -- a distinctly human-shaped shadow -- fell over him like an axe hanging over his head. He heard the creak of wood and horn, the slither of sinew, behind him.

"Where are you leaving for in the middle of the night, Leon."

Less a question as some unspoken threat. There was no mistaking the source; that low burr belonged to Garr, without question. Fury warred with a sudden chill; how had Garr found him so easily? When did he even notice Leon was gone? For the love of -- how, _how_ did the man track him down that easily without making so much as the rustle of a leaf?

Drawing a slow, controlled breath, he forced himself to answer as disdainfully as he could muster. Whatever else happened, he was not giving Garr the pleasure of seeing him rattled by this ambush.

"I don't see where that's any of your business."

Creak of the bow; a rumbling bark of decidedly unhumorous laughter.

"On the contrary, it is _entirely_ my business. The purpose of the night watch is to _watch_ , after all -- to watch what may attempt to enter a safe haven, and what may attempt to leave.

"I'll ask you again, and only once: where do you think you're leaving for in the middle of the night, in the forest, no less?"

Beneath his cloak, Leon's hand tightened on Chaltier's hilt. How dare the man talk to him in such highhanded fashion. Did Garr have any idea what Leon needed to do? Of course not. Why would he? It was hardly as if he'd ever bother to _tell_ him, no more than he'd bother to confide in any other one of the fools he was saddled with for now ...

_Careful,_ came the thought, unbidden; _he may be an idiot but he's royalty, which means he knows what power is. And how to use it._

A third thought strung itself after the first two, bitter and mistrustful.

_And he has reach on me right now with that damned bow of his. I don't dare use magic, I'll set the trees on fire._

_Damn it, anyway! I just wanted some time to myself!_

Spitting a curse, Leon spun on his heel to stare down the arrow that -- sure enough -- was nocked and drawn, waiting. From the arrowhead's dully gleaming point, he slowly, pointedly, chin high, allowed his attention to drift until he -- almost like an afterthought -- met Garr's eyes.

Eyes that were like two chips of sapphire ice. 

Garr's expression was as unreadable as stone and just as implacable. 

Once again, Leon fought the urge to shiver; the man was as inhuman as any other bastard who held a scrap of power. His lip curled. Garr was going to get his answer, but he wasn't getting the actual truth of _why_. Let him rot first if he couldn't figure it out.

"I was following this trail to go for a walk until I was tired. How anyone can sleep knowing that idiot Stahn is going to shake leaves from the trees any second with his snoring, I don't know.

"Are you happy now?"

For a long, long moment -- more than one; Leon could hear his own heartbeats go by, thudding much faster than he'd ever admit -- Garr simply stood there. Studying him? Judging him? Who could tell, with that stony mask in place; it should have been him bonded with Atwight, he was such an immovable statue ...

_Do something, damn it!_

... then the bow suddenly lowered, as Garr relaxed the string and stowed his arrow back in his quiver. His expression shifted slightly as well; a flicker of amusement danced in the blue eyes, something that nearly ignited Leon with rage. Of _course_ he'd find this humiliation entertaining ...

"Take your walk, Leon. I'll be marking your time -- you have an hour -- and expect me to come looking for you after that. Oh, and I'll find you, have no fear of that."

Now the tiniest of smiles threatened to appear on the thin lips.

"You may want to consider a different trail. That one will lead you to a bear's den. Not something you want to stir up, I don't imagine.

"I'll be waiting for you back at the camp. Have yourself a pleasant walk."

\-- and he was gone, disappearing into the forest as if he were never there to begin with. 

Muttering a curse, Leon tugged his cloak around himself and turned back to the trail. Bears, sure. They needed to be provoked, what kind of idiot did Garr think he was anyway?

One step after another, he made his way down the narrow path. One step after another, one step at a time. 

Garr would see in the end -- like all the others -- what Leon would do when he had to, and when bastards in power pushed him too hard.


End file.
